nighthawks

Here’s the truth about you: you’re not much of a fighter.

Come along the Saturday night ‘bouts - a time in the weekend’s triage where anything goes - such as this rare instance underneath the blue moon where- 

“I’m sure you can account for this,” your girlfriend grins all the while she’s got a gorgeous woman behind her, smearing lipstick down her chin, and another person’s fingers caressing this chaotic beauty you’ve failed to claim tonight. “Not planning on having anybody over, right?” 

“Oh please,” the girl on her left grins, “Look at him. He’s trying to drink all of us in.” 

“We’ll just finish right here if we don’t get inside.” The other girl concedes. 

-the conclusion you’ve drawn up is: they’re incomprehensibly gorgeous, the three of them. 

And you like being outnumbered. 

–

So: it’s the usual nine o’clock on a Saturday, to tell the tale of the tape. 

Stella’s spot around this part of town has been widely considered to be a ‘lesser known’ establishment compared to the competition. Which is, another way of saying that this hidden gem is the usual go-to spot, especially if you’re Gawon showcasing her club classics. It’s also Sooin’s stomping ground for a really good time. 

Now, the place isn’t meant for enormous whales with boatloads of cash, no. Sure, but they’re also free to drop by and spritz a little bit of extra cash from the bankrolls or rolodexes to those who may not have the same luxury as them. Tch. These trust-fund and sugar-coated kids. They’re incomparable to you: the regular. You’ve played a role as an equalizer where you know who’s going with who, where one guy and girl veer off into one of the hallways doing what Aphrodite intended what cocktails they like with their chaser, and even the poor lad that’s had the misfortune of whatever the hell he just went through in the past twenty-four-to-forty-eight hours. 

You even know the girl who’s a fading face here and there, waiting for Gawon from the bar’s vantage point. 

“Saw you walk in with someone,” Sooin greets, raising a glass. Mind you, she’s gorgeous - goes without saying, and there’s more to her cute curtain bangs: a well fitted crop top showing her ‘eleven’ shaped abs, and the heels compliment her jeans nicely. Going back to the flowing locks that finish the look - like either she’s meant to be on stage or right where she is. “On that note, I wanted you to meet someone of my own.”

“Friend of yours, I assume?” you reply, assumedly. These quick fill-ins were always a few words at best. “Friend? Boyfriend? Fling? Girlfriend?” 

She puts the glass to her cheek and the bracelet shines beneath the muted lighting. You stare at her smirk; try not to get lost at small lips and the words laced by her mouth. “Well, it might be that,” she says, but doesn't specify. There's a small hint of her teeth at the corner. “Maybe, it isn’t.” 

Sooin with this level of guise will make you reconsider everything - in all the ways of failing to resist the diplomatic approach and playing pragmatics - as if she’s the other side of the coin and knows more of the place than you; probably better than you. 

“Shame,” she sighs in relent, placing her empty glass and hailing the bartender for another cran-vodka. It’s those dead eyes that make you prisoner to the bedroom: something burbling that’s close to tar but it feels like lava - as if she’d rather have you figure out that it’s worth pushing her head down the pillows or thrown back if you’d lay it out. “They would’ve liked your plus one.” 

“She wouldn’t say no.” You lean in, flag the bartender for the same drink she’s having. “That is- depends on who you’re asking.”

“Yeah?” A finger goes to her chin, conspiring. “Maybe there’s some fun coming our way. Who knows?” It’s been the roundabout plan on these outings - dancing, drinking, partying; a lot of that, actually. You and Sooin either go home together or throw in one or two more to get them against the pillows and sheets. Nothing has really changed, and neither of you want it to. 

“Still see you’re following my picks,” you tell her, eyes to the beverages and Sooin rolls her eyes. She’ll take the chance this time tonight. 

“I got these first,” she replies, and scoots in closer. Dropping her hand and leaning towards your shoulder. The angle your head gives is inviting. “Maybe I’ll have a little more for later.” For the record: you don’t kiss her (for obvious reasons); not yet, at least. The tension in the air is only getting hotter. 

There’s more for the long game tonight and you’re betting on it. 

“I think,” Sooin reaches to your ear, grips the sleeve for insurance over the loud ambience. You run along with it; run along the play of leaning in close and see her look up for that kiss, stop about halfway and just sit in the mere inches. Instead, you kiss her cheek - a common courtesy. “I would’ve been stuck with you, if it weren’t for my boyfriend.” Your eyebrows lift - she smiles at the acknowledgement. “Then I realized that going both ways is a whole different league.” 

“I thought we agreed about labels,” you laugh, to which Sooin looks the other way in a little embarrassment. “He doesn’t have to know, right?”

You see her bite down a grin. “But yes. He doesn’t even have to know.” 

“Good.” You keep it cool, let Sooin get closer and pull a bit of your shirt. “Got anyone in particular here?” 

“Ah,” sighs Sooin. Breaking that mischievous grin: plotting you and everyone else like it’s second nature. “Thought you might ask. How badly do you want to know? It’s a deep roster.” 

“How deep are we suspecting?” You nod, a little dry. Being ‘all talk’ isn’t your style, anyway. 

“I have my options.” 

“Am I the standout, the anomaly,” you chuckle, unbearing. “Surely, no?” 

Sooin laughs; a beauty in itself. You’d want to be stuck in a loop with her many sounds. 

“I don’t have to answer that, hon.” Her nails dance along the collar; gently graze your cheek. She runs her fingers through her hair and lets the locks fall on their own. “Not just for me, but for everyone that you see around here.” 

“Maybe right now can be the exception.” You stand tall, lean against the counter. “And you don’t get a say in my choice, by the way.” 

“I’m greedy.” Sooin squares her frame, taps your chin and flicks it slightly. Her shimmering eyes look into yours and they’re full of wonder - even better when you’re not going out together. She’s a treasure to behold, and in her own right as well. “He’d lose his shit if he found out about you.” 

“Surprised you kept a secret like this for so long.” 

The crowd rolling in for the club's event only rises in volume, watching as they see a group of  bandmates finally show up on stage. You glance at as she waits in anticipation - a kickstarter to the night’s festivities; the beginning of a never-ending loop, where the promise pays off in the highest rewards. 

With every look, the loop somehow ends with her always in the middle. 

“Who knows,” hums Sooin, while she gives cheers to the bartender before trailing off to get a better view of the stage, the audience roaring to life when the music blasts from the speakers, and Gawon walks out with a jacket and guitar. 

–

Look- appearances and all, the club’s got a lot to offer. You’ve got live music, the dancing, the usual rotation of drinks being brought down by girls and the board that names the occasion. Everyone’s here to feel good and disconnect from the world in their own fashions. Some dress up nice and others are here to get wasted - there’s no difference - someone falls within those fallacies every time they set foot in here. And yet, there’s other places to go out but when the city lights are shining and the flashes are quickly flickering in their eyes, it merely tells the blur of what’s about to hit. 

Speaking of which: it’s a complete blindside with the newcomer in your proximity. 

Every weekend - or, every other weekend, there’s not much to differentiate between them - some are there to remember, or forget, blow their tabs out the wallets, kiss a few mouths and get between a pair of legs - although, it’s pretty mundane, all things considered. The weekend crowd shuffles in and it’s an opportunity - or challenge, how you see fit - to make things interesting; to have fun, play the odds with a few shots and walk back home with someone over your back, nobody will bat an eye. But then again: you never saw it coming. 

She taps your shoulder and you’re lured away overseeing the crowd. Waves a finger and twitches her head to the bar. It’s very new, yeah. Clearly something that you’re not used to. 

She also says her “Hey’s” very sweetly, despite the booming bass - you could tell from the shape of her mouth. Kind of like how an old friend would say them if you haven’t seen them in a long while. 

(You’re not used to that, either.)

Sooin’s off somewhere on the floor - that, or looking for that someone you walked in with (allegedly), still hyped about getting you to meet her. Who knows. You’ll find out sooner or later. Your girlfriend was playing social butterfly and you found it best not to get in her way until she brings back someone worth the attention. One’s company; two’s a crowd, three’s a party. You know the saying of sums, and then- 

This girl swivels on the chair and hails down the bartender with one look, rakes her fingers through her hair with a coaster slid across the surface. She slides it to you and gets another- 

Your gaze meets hers - a lot similar to Sooin’s, but she’s dead set in your view. 

Wow, alright. You’re at a loss of words. Passing all the marks above the hundreds. 

“Hey. Hi,” she says again, reeling your attention. “I have a sweet taste for drinks, but I’m feeling something sour. You look like you know the menu from the back of your eyes.”